


Ghost Stories

by ThePrototype



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Ghosts, Murder Mystery, Original Character(s), Professors, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-03-16 01:50:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3469961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePrototype/pseuds/ThePrototype
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every university has the little legends that make it unique- if you jump in the duck pond before your finals, you'll pass, or that if you step on the logo embedded in the floor in the student union you'll fail your next paper. There's also the ghost stories. San Fransokyo Institute of Technology is no exception, but everyone knew the ghost haunting Hamada Hall was benevolent. Until it wasn't. </p>
<p>Faced with a growing panic among the students, as well as the supposed resurgence of his brother's vengeful ghost, Hiro Hamada must get to the bottom of strange student deaths, as well as confront some wounds he'd thought healed thirty years ago. Future fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Every university has those dumb little legends. You know the type. The ones that the upperclassmen tell the freshmen, maybe hoping that they can get them to do something stupid. “If you jump in the duck pond before your finals you’ll pass them all!” Or the stories about the logo embedded in the floor of the student union- “whatever you do, _do not_ step on the logo or you’ll fail your next paper!” Or the just plain ridiculous- “Be careful, if you kiss a virgin under the clock-tower at midnight a brick will fall off and hit you in the head!”

And then there’s the ghost stories. Universities over all are fairly safe places, but you get that many young adults in one place, and accidents are bound to happen. And non-accidents. Everybody’s heard the story of the ghostly frat boy who died of alcohol poisoning who floats around the quad at midnight asking people for beer. Or the ghost of the law student who was hit by a car two days before the bar exam, who will stop people who are out in the dead of night and ask them old exam questions- if you get the answer wrong he’ll stab you with a pen. Or your university might have the ghost of the computer science student who was electrocuted who hangs out in the computer lab and likes to move the coffee-maker around and unplug the cables when you’re trying to upload your semester project to the school intranet. Although if you make an offering of cake or candy she might leave you alone. Or, if you’re really unlucky, you might end up with the vengeful ghost of a registrar employee who committed suicide, who likes to mess with people’s transcripts.

But everybody knows those are just stupid legends, told to scare the freshmen or come up with explanations for annoying things that happen in the course of daily life at college. The cable came unplugged when you were trying to upload your assignment? Ah, you must have pissed off the comp sci ghost. You should buy some sweets to put in the communal basket for everyone to share next time, maybe she’ll like you then. Or, your beer disappeared and your roommate swears he had nothing to do with it? The Beer Ghost paid you a visit. Not graduating on time? Bad luck, man,, did you do anything to offend the registrar employees? No? Maybe you annoyed the ghost. Get a creepy feeling walking around on campus at night? Good thing you didn’t stop to talk to anyone- it might have been Mr. Bar Exam! Just silly stories meant to entertain bored students, that’s all they are.

San Fransokyo Institute of Technology is no exception. Everyone knew the story of how the Hamada Building came to be. Thirty years ago an undergraduate died in a fire that was set by an insane professor, and when the building was rebuilt, it was named after the deceased student. Some people figured that because the building was built on the ruins of the old conference center, that the ghost of the dead student must haunt it, but everyone was careful to not mention that to the dead student’s brother- an engineering professor. After all, it was just a stupid theory, and there was no need to upset the family of the student. The incident had happened in living memory, after all, and it was still somewhat of a sore spot for the school. Having the crazed arsonist be a highly-respected professor did not really win SFIT any points on the national stage.

But it was true that weird things tended to happen in the Hamada Building. It wasn’t really anything dangerous or particularly frightening, but it was still unexplainable. Students who fell asleep in the building, alone, invariably woke up with a blanket draped over them and a baggy of gummy bears next to them. If you were stuck on a problem, or couldn’t figure out how to fix something, and you left your textbook alone for a bit, when you came back it would be opened to a page that had something that would help you. And if you lost anything in the building, the next day it would be carefully sitting on your workstation. And it was true that sometimes, students swore they could see a young man out of the corner of their eye, but when they turned around, he wasn’t there. This had been going on since the building opened thirty years prior. Most people just shrugged it off, but a few truly believed in the ghost story.

And as far as ghost stories go, they could be _much_ more frightening than a ghostly man in his early twenties that looks after undergraduates. Hell, he doesn’t even make a mess of people’s stuff! No student had ever reported that the ghost did anything to frighten or hurt them- he was more like the ultimate big brother, making sure that students in his building took care of themselves.

At least, until that one day.

* * *

 

It dawned like a normal morning. Professors and students streamed into the building for the start of morning classes. Students blearily shuffled to their classrooms and workspaces, professors unlocked their offices and began to gather up their materials for the day. All of a sudden, however, a shrill scream resounded through the building. “OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. SHE’S DEAD, HOLY SHIT SHE’S DEAD!”

Students and faculty all ran towards the source of the sound, only to stop dead in their tracks when they realized what had happened. A hysterically sobbing student knelt next to a toppled-over file cabinet- with legs sticking out from underneath it and a puddle of blood seeping outwards. Immediately, multiple phone calls went into the campus police, and a squad car and an ambulance were well on their way. 

"How did this even happen?" 

"That's so weird, there has never been a filing cabinet in the middle of the lab! Was she trying to move it or something?" 

"You crazy? That thing was like ten times heavier than Amanda! She wouldn't have tried to move it on her own!"

"What are you saying, that someone pushed it onto her?" 

"Maybe." 

"That's ridiculous." 

"You sayin' she just dropped a filing cabinet on herself? Seems like a waste of effort for suicide. There's enough chemicals alone in this building to make it much easier." 

"God, you're so morbid, she's dead! Have some respect."

"Are you sure she's dead? Has anyone checked?"

"Dude, she got squashed by a filing cabinet. Even if the fall didn't kill her she would have bled out by now, or did you not notice the huge puddle of blood?"

"Oh god, I'm going to be sick..."

"SHIT! THAT CABINET SQUASHED MY STUFF TOO!"

"Oh my god, who was it? Are they dead?"

"What the fuck is going on in here- _ulp."_

"EVERYBODY GET OUT OF THE WAY!" The campus officer's commanding voice broke through the hubbub. The crowd parted to let him and the paramedics through. It took three of them to lift the filing cabinet off of the cadaver, and for the first time, the student's body was revealed. 

Although most of her was crushed, the girl's face showed a clear expression of terror, as though she had seen exactly what caused the accident, and it wasn't what she had expected. 

To Be Continued 


	2. Chapter 2

It really took a lot to scare him. Before he was fifteen years old, he’d seen both of his parents and his brother die, as well as faced down an arsonist and would-be murderer, half-crazed with grief. He had spent his teenaged years and his twenties facing other villains, and on one memorable occasion, a really pissed-off space alien. And in his years as a professor, he’d seen just about everything university students could throw at him. After the life he’d led, very little fazed Hiro Hamada anymore.

 The exception to that was the sight of a battalion of police cars, ambulances, and fire engines surrounding a college campus, sirens blaring at their full volume. When he’d looked out his office window to determine the source of the commotion, it felt as though the bottom of his stomach had dropped out. The sheer number of emergency vehicles would be disturbing in and of itself, but the direction they took was what really upset him. He knew the route by heart- not only did he teach his classes in that particular building, he’d walked past it almost every day for thirty years. He would never forget that particular location as long as he lived- it was where the whole thing began, when his brother died. The old conference center was now Hamada Hall, and it was supposedly one of the most fireproof buildings in the world- he’d made sure of that when it was being designed- it was the least he could do for his brother’s memory. But even that knowledge didn’t stop the recurring nightmares. For one horrific moment, he could have sworn he saw the building go up in flames. _No no no, not again, not again, please, no._ Grabbing his jacket off of the back of his chair, he barely had the presence of mind to grab his ID card before he was running down the stairs and out the door, not bothering to wait for the elevator.

* * *

He made record time to Hamada Hall. The building was not on fire, but there was a confused mass of students and professors shuffling outside. Police were shouting at people to get back, please clear the area, nothing to see here, move along. Scanning the crowd for any familiar faces, he breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted a very familiar chemical engineering professor. “Honey,” Hiro said, hurrying up to her. “What happened? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” the thin Hispanic woman replied, biting her lower lip in concern. “Dr. Ooba has food poisoning so he asked me if I could cover his Chem 201 lab this morning.. I said I’d do it, but when I got here everything was blocked off, and the police won’t let anyone inside. Maybe there was an accident?” Hiro tried to not let his alarm show at the word “accident,” but of course, Honey noticed. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be fine. The police and the fire department have it under control. There’s no fire, at least.”

“Yeah…” Hiro muttered, not entirely convinced. “Look, let me know if you figure out what’s going on. I’m going to try to get someone to tell me what’s going on,”

As he made his way through the crowd, that sinking feeling in his stomach just kept getting stronger and stronger. From the snatches of concerned comments he overheard from students, he was able to determine that there had indeed been some kind of accident, and that it was very unlikely that the victim would still be alive. As to what the accident actually was, however, was anyone’s guess. Apparently it had gone sort of like a game of telephone, with increasingly bizarre rumors floating around. Someone’s robotics project had shorted out and gone on the rampage. A chemical engineering student had gone crazy and built a bomb that blew up in his face. Someone had committed suicide by drinking fluoroantimonic acid. A barista from the Starbucks on the ground floor had snapped and taken a student hostage with the student’s own protractor. An active shooter had barricaded himself in the robotics lab. Every potential story just got more and more outlandish. Hiro highly doubted that any of the rumors were true- they were just too bizarre.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably closer to five or so minutes, he finally managed to get up close to one of the police officers, who immediately ordered him to get back harshly. Hiro raised an eyebrow.

“I’m supposed to be teaching a class in there in an hour. These students need access to their work. What’s going on?”

The cop looked at him suspiciously. “ _You’re_ a professor? You look awfully young to be an academic, skinny.”

Hiro’s eyebrow went even higher. _Skinny?_ Was that supposed to be insulting? And he didn’t think he looked that young, really. Maybe he didn’t quite look his actual age of 44, but he certainly didn’t look like a teenager anymore. And he mentioned as much. “I’m 44! And it’s my name on the building! I have a right to know what is happening!” He held out his university-issued ID card, and the cop took it with a frown, glanced at it, and immediately his demeanor changed. “Oh, Dr. Hamada. Excuse me. It’s just that we’ve had a lot of students trying to get past here and into the building, you’ll have to excuse me for being suspicious. We can’t let anyone in right now.”

“I figured that much out,” Hiro replied, trying to control his impatience. “But if there is an active threat to the students, someone really should be telling the administration, so that an alert can be sent out. I overheard students talking about a gunman! If that’s what’s going on, then it would be for the benefit of everyone if you’d at least say _something_.”

The officer looked around uncomfortably. “No, no, it’s not a gunman, but there was an accident, probably last night. I don’t really know all the details myself, but it seems like a filing cabinet fell on a girl and crushed her. It was probably just an accident, but the students who found her said there’s not usually a filing cabinet in the area she was found. So we have to do an investigation. Like I said, it’s probably nothing. She was probably trying to move it and lost her balance. But we’ve still gotta do an investigation in case it wasn’t an accident. Can’t be too careful these days.”

“I… see,” Hiro replied. He thanked the officer for his information, and went back to where Honey was standing. In a low voice, he relayed the information.

“Oh no, how horrible,” Honey gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “They think it might not have been an accident?”

“It’s too early to tell, really. And whoever’s in charge doesn’t seem to be telling that guy much,” Hiro replied. “But they’ll probably send out an alert once they figure out what happened.”

* * *

Several hours later, the university sent out an email explaining the situation.

The girl’s name had been Amanda MacBride, and she had been a third-year student in the robotics program. Hiro had taught her in a few classes. She wasn’t really a stand-out student in any way; she was a fairly quiet and plain girl, and her work hadn’t really been exceptional. Truthfully, Hiro remembered thinking that she might prefer being in a different track of study- she wasn’t stupid by any means, but she didn’t really show the drive and passion for robotics that most of her classmates did. If he remembered correctly she had only chosen robotics as her field of study because her parents had highly encouraged her to do so. But despite her limitations, she always tried her best, and if she didn’t understand something, she always went to her professors’ office hours. In a way, that was almost more important than the raw talent, that a student who knew where their limits were and when to ask for help would potentially go further than a student who thought they could coast through their academic and actual careers on inherent ability. But of course, the email didn’t mention any of that. In fact, it was mostly vague on the details.

_To: SFIT_all_  
From: Reiji Kitani (kitanir@sfit.edu)  
Subject: Police investigation n Hamada Hall 

_Dear Students and Faculty_

_This morning, at around 9:00 AM, students and faculty who were going to classes in the Tadashi Hamada Memorial Hall discovered that in the overnight hours, a student in the robotics program had been killed in an accident. Amanda MacBride, class of 20XX, was found crushed underneath a filing cabinet. While it almost certain that this incident was a freak accident, the robotics lab in Hamada Hall will be closed until further notice while the police conduct their investigation. Hamada Hall will be closed in entirety for the rest of today, although classes not held in the robotics lab will be held as scheduled starting tomorrow, and all other labs will be open._

_Any students who may be experiencing grief are encouraged to speak with their RAs, or to set up an appointment with the Office of Counseling and Psychological Services (OCAPS). A candlelight vigil will be held outside of Hamada Hall tonight at 7:00 PM, and a memorial service will be held at Our Lady of Mercy Catholic Church on Saturday at 4:30 PM._

_Our thoughts and prayers are with Ms. MacBride’s family and friends today._

_Dr. Reiji Kitani, San Fransokyo Institute of Technology, President_  
kitanir@sfit.edu   
23000 University Place 

It was a very stilted, formal missive, not that he really would have expected anything different, but something about the email seemed off. Classes were just going to be held like normal? Hiro knew from experience that the world didn’t end just because someone died, but how many students would be comfortable attending class in the same building where another student had just died, police investigation or no police investigation? And was it really necessary to include that they were “almost certain” that it had been an accident? College students were an excitable bunch- suggesting that this might _not_ have been an accident seemed perfectly engineered to cause a complete, total panic amongst the student body. And if anyone truly thought that it hadn’t been an accident… well then, what were they doing by sending people back into the building almost immediately? Wouldn’t it contaminate the potential crime scene?

Then again, Hiro was just an engineering professor, not a cop, or a forensic analyst. What did he know about this sort of thing?

Almost immediately, however, his email beeped again with another message.

_To: Hiro Hamada (hamadah@sfit.edu)_  
From: Reiji Kitani (kitanir@sfit.edu)  
Subject: Today’s incident 

Hiro blinked. The president of the university very rarely bothered to engage directly with his faculty, usually using one of the other administrators to send out information needed. What was he doing emailing him now?

_Dr. Hamada_ , the email read curtly.

_Given the unfortunate events of this morning, it is inevitable that distasteful rumors will start to spread about what happened. I am counting on you to help keep things under control. We already had enough trouble regarding safety when your brother died, we need to do everything in our power to prevent something like that from blowing up out of control again. I am sure you are aware that our applicant pool has shrunk in the past several years. It will be to everyone’s benefit if we keep this from getting out. Do what you can to keep the media out of it- they’ll be more likely to listen to you. Only tell what is absolutely necessary._

_Dr. Reiji Kitani_  
kitanir@sfit.edu   
23000 University Place 

“Are you kidding me?” Hiro muttered under his breath. Kitani really had some nerve. What the hell did Hiro have to do with anything? It was almost like Dr. Kitani believed that something more serious than just an accident had happened. But that was ridiculous, right? Kitani probably just wanted to make sure that all the students felt safe, and that parents wouldn’t be concerned about their children’s well-being while they were away at college. Still, the man didn’t have to phrase it quite so abrasively.

His phone beeped, this time signaling a text message.

_From: Gogo_

_Did you get the email? What an asshole._

_From: Me_

_Well, he was trying to reassure everyone._

_From: Gogo_

_No, not that one. The one about not talking to the media._

_From: Me_

_Oh. Yeah, I did._

_From: Gogo_

_What the hell does he think we’re going to do? It’s almost like he’s hiding something._

_From: Me_

_Look, let’s not go there right now._

_From: Gogo_

_Whatever this is, we’re going to have to go there sooner or later._

_From: Gogo_

_It’s like the only thing he cares about is the school’s image._

Feeling slightly unsettled, Hiro put his phone down. Leave it to Gogo to pick up on _exactly_ what he was feeling. At least it wasn’t Fred. Fred would have already come up with some crazy conspiracy theory and he would be halfway to Las Aichi to look for clues already.

To Be Continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, this really took off! I seriously wasn't expecting this to get so much attention, thank you all very much. Things are getting a little sketchy so far, aren't they? 
> 
> The plan so far is, tentatively, for this story to have 15 chapters, but at this point in time it looks like it will likely be a little longer. I also probably will not be able to update quite this quickly in the future- there's a foot of snow outside right now, so I had a bit more time, and about half of this chapter drafted when I posted the first chapter. 
> 
> Again, thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the week passed more or less without incident. Two days after Amanda MacBride’s body was discovered the police allowed students to return to the lab. The autopsy report showed that the girl had died from being crushed to death (which should have been incredibly obvious to anyone who’d seen the accident scene), and there was no evidence to suggest that there had been foul play involved. It was determined that the accident had happened because MacBride had been trying to move a piece of furniture much too heavy for one person to handle on their own, had lost her balance, and fallen. Most likely she had panicked, grabbed onto the cabinet and dragged it down with her. The cabinet, weighing quite a bit more than MacBride, had killed her when it landed on her. According to the autopsy she would have died relatively quickly, since the cabinet would have crushed many of her bones and internal organs. Still, even knowing it was a freak accident that could have been prevented if the girl was following proper procedure didn’t make it any better.

There was a large turnout at the candlelight vigil. MacBride hadn’t been the best student, or the most sociable of students, but she was generally well-liked amongst her peers and professors. The candles, flowers, and stuffed animals lining the steps up to the building were uncomfortably familiar to Hiro- thirty years ago, in the exact same spot, there had been a very similar ceremony held for his own brother. But he felt compelled to attend this one too- he’d taught her, after all, and most of the other professors were going. It didn’t stop the uncomfortable gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, however. Seeing Mr. and Mrs. MacBride, and their younger sons, grieving at the memorial hit too close to home. Memories of another incident in the same place kept coming to the front of his mind, to the point where he could barely tell what was happening in the present and what had happened in the past. Finally, Honey Lemon had to lead him back to his office, murmuring soothingly to him. Hiro had to stop himself from snapping at her- she meant well, she really did, but it didn’t make a difference. Tadashi was thirty years dead, he was supposed to have gotten over that years ago. Why was one foolish student’s accident shaking things up so badly in his head? For the love of god, it wasn’t even that the incidents were similar! Tadashi had died in a fire caused by arson, MacBride had killed herself through negligence. About the only thing they had in common was the location, and even that wasn’t exactly the same- for one, the buildings were different.

So why couldn’t he shake the feeling that he’d seen his brother die all over again?

* * *

Now that the lab was open again, all evidence of the death cleaned up, three students sat at a table in the corner, discussing. “I just can’t believe Amanda’s gone…” the female student said, shaking her head as she flipped aimlessly through a textbook. Her dark glasses were slipping down her nose, and her messy blonde hair fell into her face, but she didn’t seem to notice either of those things. “I just don’t understand why she was moving that stupid filing cabinet. It’s never been out here in the workspace before- what was she trying to do?” The male student sitting next to her, a short, skinny Latino man snorted derisively.

“Come on, Catherine, you and I both know that she wasn’t trying to move the damn cabinet. Someone pushed it onto her, I’m sure of it.”

“Or some _thing_ ,” the other male student, a pudgy redhead, muttered under his breath.

“You’re still on about the ghost thing?” Catherine asked skeptically. “We’ve already been over this. You and Julian have been over this too! There’s no such thing as ghosts!”

“How many times have I told you- that thing you saw? _It was probably one of the other, oh, 40,000 students on this campus,”_ Julian agreed, glaring at his friend. “You were half asleep! Just because you saw a Japanese guy out of the corner of your eye doesn’t mean you saw the ghost of that guy the building’s named after! There’s tons of Japanese guys here, you can’t freak out every time you see one, you moron. Not to mention what that says about you…”

“It’s not because I saw a Japanese guy!” the redhead replied heatedly. “It’s not that at all! And who’s the moron? It took you almost an entire semester to tell apart the Stewart professors!”

“They’re twins!” Julian retorted, offended.

“One is a woman,” the redhead smirked.

“Well, she looks almost exactly like her brother! They both wear suits! They have the same haircut! They’re the same height! They even have the same damn glasses! So I couldn’t tell them apart at 8:00 in the morning, sue me,” Julian groused.

“You went to the wrong professor’s office hours. Ten times,” Catherine chimed in. “You’ve got to admit, Julian, Mike has a point.”

“You’re ganging up on me, that’s so not fair,” Julian pouted.

“Anyway,” Mike interrupted. “Like I said, it wasn’t because I saw a Japanese guy, no matter what Julian tries to say about me. It was because he was all burnt! His clothes were covered in scorch marks and he had burns on one side of his face! Everyone knows that the guy this building is named for died in a fire. People say it’s haunted. What’s so hard to believe about the fact that I saw a ghost?”

“Apart from the fact that ghosts don’t exist?” Julian asked. “How about because even _if_ we abandon all logic for this, everybody knows the real Tadashi Hamada was a good guy. He died trying to save a professor. He cared a lot about his brother and his aunt, and his friends. He wasn’t the kind of person to hurt someone else. Do you really think that even if ghosts were real, dying would change someone’s personality that much?”

“He died because he tried to save the professor that set the building on fire in the first place,” Mike replied. “Maybe he was pissed that he died for nothing.”

“I can’t believe that I’m actually going along with this,” Catherine added, “but all the stories people have about this ghost have him as a nice person… ghost… whatever. He gives people snacks and helps them with their homework!”

“But he does it while lurking around looking like something out of a horror movie,” Mike protested.

“Well he _did_ burn to death,” Julian helpfully pointed out. “He probably can’t help it, it’s what he’s stuck with. Or would be stuck with if he was a real thing.”

“Even if you say that,” Mike said stubbornly, “what’s to say that he is nice all of the time? There are stories of ghosts who start out harmless but end up dangerous when they can’t cross over to the next world. Maybe that’s what happened here!”

“You probably shouldn’t be talking like that then,” Julian snickered. When both Catherine and Mike looked at him in confusion, he elaborated. “Do you really want to bring attention to yourself by pissing off a potentially malevolent ghost? _Onryo_ really hate it when you invoke them, and my mom always warned me growing up to be careful if I’m outside at night or _La Llorona_ would get me. Or maybe his brother hasn’t been paying him enough attention lately- maybe he’s hungry and trying to get someone’s attention. You wouldn’t want to draw it to you, would you?” Catherine eyed him with a strange look on her face.

“Now _you_ almost sound like you believe in the ghost,” she said.

“I don’t, but Mike does,” Julian replied. “You’d think he’d follow the ghost lore better if he’s really so afraid of it.”

“I’m not afraid!” Mike interrupted hotly, his jowls quivering. “I just don’t want to be in a building where there’s a pissed-off ghost that might be killing people!”

“In other words, you’re afraid,” Julian taunted.

“Oh fuck off,” the other boy replied, clearly getting irritated.

“Yes, it would probably be a good idea to stop with that train of thought there,” a new voice interrupted. All three students turned around to see a rather large, middle-aged African-American man with dreadlocks staring down at them like a gigantic owl. In unison, all three of them gulped. Dr. Carter was a very nice man, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating, especially if he snuck up on you like that.

“Oh. Good afternoon, Professor,” Catherine said politely. “What can we do for you?”

“Oh, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation, Miss Shirley,” the professor said, with a tone of forced lightness. “About the ghost. You and Mr. Gutierrez were right when you said that the man you’ve been discussing was a good person in life, and that it would be unlikely that his ghost would be any different. You would be correct- Tadashi Hamada was a good person in his life, and even if there truly was his revenant lurking around in this building, he certainly would not be harming the students.” He paused here for a moment, then continued. “Obviously I cannot forbid you from talking about your ghost conspiracy theories, but I will ask you to keep it to yourselves around Dr. Hamada. I don’t think he would appreciate hearing your campfire stories about his brother.”

“His brother?” Mike blurted out before he could think any better of it. Dr. Carter gave him a wan smile

“You never noticed that he had the same name that was on the building? Yes, Mr. Campbell, Tadashi Hamada was Dr. Hamada’s older brother. I didn’t realize that students these days didn’t realize that.. Oh well. I will leave you to it. You should try to get some work done, too, instead of just gossiping.”

“Yes sir,” all three students said in unison. The professor nodded and walked away. Once he was out of the way, Julian smacked Mike upside the head.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You moron! Don’t ask stupid questions like that to a professor!”

* * *

 

Hiro sat at his desk, reading emails, when someone knocked on his door. “Come in,” he called, not really paying much attention. However, he looked up when he realized who his visitor was. “Oh. Wasabi. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I found that old book on FORTRAN you were looking for the other day,” Wasabi replied, brandishing the book. “I thought I’d drop by to give it to you. I don’t know what you’re needing FORTRAN for though- that was outdated in the early 2000s!”

“I’m looking at an old robot a student found in the basement of their dorm building,” Hiro replied. “I can’t figure out how it’s coded though, so I thought I would look at some of the obsolete programming languages.”

“That makes sense,” Wasabi agreed noncommittally. Hiro smirked.

“You know, you’re really bad at hiding things.”

“What makes you think I’m hiding anything?”

“Why would you come all the way up here just to bring me a dusty old book?” Hiro asked. “That’s what TAs are for. You have something you want to tell me but you’re not sure how to say it. Don’t try to deny it, I’ve seen it often enough over the years.”

“You know me too well,” Wasabi muttered. He paused, then asked, “how are you doing?”

“I’m doing fine,” Hiro replied shortly. Wasabi quirked an eyebrow.

“Really? Honey said you didn’t look well the other day.”

“I was at a memorial service for a dead student. Of course I wasn’t all sunshine and light,” Hiro snarked back.

“Fair enough. Are you alright now?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Hiro said, perhaps a bit too quickly. Wasabi didn’t look convinced, and rather like he would prefer not to have this conversation, but he pressed on anyway.

“Do you remember some of the rumors that were flying around when Hamada Hall opened up?” he asked. Hiro looked up sharply.

“Which ones? The ones about Hannah Kishi and Takeo Yamazaki having sex in the supply closet the day the building opened or the ones about the ghost?”

“The second one,” Wasabi replied, but he couldn’t help but snort at the memory of the former rumor. Those particular individuals had had somewhat of a reputation amongst their peers for being unable to keep it under control, and had once been caught _in flagrante_ in the parking garage stairwell. Of course it wouldn’t take much for them to want to, ah, _christen_ a new building. Of course when Yamazaki had admitted to it the rumors started flying even more. The two men shared a quick laugh at the memory, but sobered up rather quickly.

“I can’t say I’m surprised. Who’s haunting what now? Is MacBride in ghostly love with my brother? Did they have an epic ghost fight to determine who was going to be the master of Hamada Hall?” Hiro asked, trying (and failing) to keep the sarcastic bitterness out of his voice.

Wasabi really wished he’d kept his mouth shut, but he was in now. “Not exactly. I overheard some students talking about… well, _onryo_ stories. And about Tadashi.”

Hiro’s mouth went dry. “Who was it?” he asked. Wasabi hesitated. “Come on, I’m not going to yell at them or anything. I just want to know who it is, so I can try to avoid overhearing, if they’re in any of my classes.”

“Catherine Shirley, Julian Gutierrez, and Mike Campbell,” Wasabi finally answered. “If it’s any consolation though Miss Shirley and Mr. Gutierrez were trying to talk Mr. Campbell out of believing in the ghost stories.”

“Why am I not surprised it’s Campbell?” Hiro muttered.

“Now now, be nice,” Wasabi admonished. Hiro rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, alright, _Professor_ ,” he said sarcastically. “Thanks for bringing me the book. And the heads-up.”

“No problem,” the other man replied. Before he headed out the door, though, he stopped and turned around again. “Take care of yourself, alright? The last time we saw you like this you created a superhero team. Now that you’ve already done that, Honey’s a little worried what you’ll do this time.” Hiro laughed aloud at that, though it was tinged with a hint of bitterness.

“ _Honey’s_ worried?” he asked. Wasabi chuckled.

“Okay, okay, I’m a little worried too,” he admitted.

“Trust me, Wasabi, I’m 44 years old,” Hiro replied. “I’m past the emotional wreck of a teenager phase of my life.”

However, as Wasabi walked back to his own office, he wasn’t entirely sure.

To Be Continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we meet some OCs. I know a lot of people don't like them very much, but they're kind of necessary for the plot to move forward. I tried to draft it out without them, but it ended up being extremely complicated and illogical in some places if the main cast was the ones to drive the action in a few spots, so have some students. A university should have at least a few students, right? 
> 
> And the bit about confusing the two professors for each other is based on a true story that happened to a friend of mine. At his school, there were fraternal twins who were professors (a man and a woman). However, they looked very much alike. Same height, same approximate weight, same hairstyle, same glasses, same sense of fashion (they both liked to wear pantsuits). He spent the entire semester confusing the female professor for the male professor and vice-versa. At first I didn't believe him that they really looked that much alike, but then he showed me a picture of them. And yeah, they really _did_ look _incredibly_ alike, especially because they had the same hairstyle and were wearing the same sort of clothes. I'm not sure if that means my friend and I are just really bad at telling people apart, or if those professors were doing it on purpose, or something else, but it was a very funny story. 
> 
> After that semester though the male professor grew a beard, and my friend was able to tell them apart much better then.


	4. Chapter 4

Life goes on. Every semester is full of surprises and unexpected things that require attention from both professors and students, and even though there was still an empty hole in the classes where Amanda MacBride had once sat, students and professors began to move on, other things took their attention away from dwelling on the death. And then came midterm exam season. Students and professors suddenly found their lives filled with drama that only happens when high-stakes tests were involved. Student relationships were created and destroyed, papers were passed and failed, there was a run on the bookstore for scantron forms, and several students had to be talked down from the metaphorical (and in one case, literal- Catherine Shirley had called 911 to keep her suitemate from jumping off the parking garage in despair over an exam grade) ledge.

And of course, the bi-annual biology professor brawl, which happened every semester at least once, sometimes more often.

“Dammit Mikan, I told you, I didn’t steal your test questions! I don’t even know why you think I would, considering you got your PhD from a third-rate diploma mill!”

“Oh fuck you! And why would you steal my test questions? Maybe you’d have written your own if you weren’t out getting shitfaced with your students every night! Tell me, have any of them offered to exchange _services_ for a better grade in your class? Maybe the better question is, have you taken any of them up on it?”

“Why you-! How dare you!? I’m not the one that slept with a graduate student!”

“You know damn well he went to San Fransokyo State. And I was a graduate student at the time too! Or have you forgotten who broke up Adjit Sridharan’s marriage by fucking his husband?”

“They were gonna divorce anyway! What right do you have to shame me?”

“Maybe because I didn’t sleep with a married man, you whore?!”

Hiro just shook his head. Mikan Tanemura and Sarah Elberfeld hated each other guts, something about a ridiculous feud over a boy dating back to high school. The two biology professors somehow managed to cause a ruckus every single semester, and having known each other for so long, always knew _exactly_ where to hit below the belt to cause the strongest reaction in their enemy. While rivalries in academia weren’t exactly uncommon, this one was so notoriously obnoxious that even the students knew about it. Probably because more than once Elberfeld had interrupted her classes to rant at the students about Tanemura, and Tanemura had mobilized her students to inconvenience Elberfeld several times, including one memorable incident involving three fetal pigs, a cherry bomb, and eleven cans of Diet Coke. It was at the point that the administration had given up trying to mediate between them and basically let the two do their business, as long as it didn’t turn violent or cause problems for the students. Everyone knew that Mikan Tanemura hated Sarah Elberfeld, and Sarah Elberfeld hated Mikan Tanemura.

So of course, when Mikan Tanemura’s strangled body, still bearing ligature marks around the neck, was found in the woman’s restroom in Hamada Hall by a horrified graduate student, the prime suspect was Sarah Elberfeld, PhD.

* * *

_To: SFIT_all_  
From: Dr. Reiji Kitani ([kitanir@sfit.edu](mailto:kitanir@sfit.edu))   
Subject: Announcement of Termination and Investigation 

_To the SFIT Community:_

_Two days ago, Nhung Nguyen, a graduate student studying architectural engineering, discovered the body of Dr. Mikan Tanemura in Hamada Hall. While the details of the incident are still unclear at this point in time, preliminary investigations have shown that the cause of Dr. Tanemura’s death was strangulation. At this point in time the police have ruled it a homicide. A suspect has been arrested and is in custody._

_I regret to inform the SFIT community that the suspect in this case is another professor from our university, and one of Dr. Tanemura’s colleagues. Dr. Sarah Elberfeld is currently in police custody, awaiting trial for murder. Classes that were taught by Dr. Tanemura and Dr. Elberfeld are now considered completed. Student midterm grades will be counted as the final grades. Students with non-passing grades will be re-enrolled in the same class next semester with no penalty to their GPA records._

_I would like to stress that safety is our highest priority here at SFIT, and that campus police will be stepping up patrols around campus for the remainder of the year. While this year has seen two unfortunate deaths, this university will be taking steps to prevent any more accidents or incidents this year. We remain committed to the health and well-being of our community._

_A memorial will be held for Dr. Tanemura in the Hackathorn Auditorium on Friday at 3:00 PM, and her funeral service will be held on Saturday, at the Shirota Jinja shrine, at 11:00 AM. Any students who wish to discuss their emotions in the light of the recent events are encouraged to speak with their RAs or the Office of Counseling and Psychological Services (OCAPS). Faculty and staff are also encouraged to speak with OCAPS or with Dr. Phyllis Choi of the Psychology department, who will be offering grief counseling._

_Any student or faculty member with information about the incident is also encouraged to speak with SFIT Police or San Fransokyo Metropolitan Police._

_Our thoughts and prayers are with Dr. Tanemura’s friends and family today._

Dr. Reiji Kitani, San Fransokyo Institute of Technology, President   
[kitanir@sfit.edu](mailto:kitanir@sfit.edu)  
23000 University Place

_To: SFIT_faculty_   
_From: Dr. Reiji Kitani ([kitanir@sfit.edu](mailto:kitanir@sfit.edu)) _   
_Subject: Dr. Tanemura_

_As you are all most likely aware, this morning a graduate student found Mikan Tanemura’s body in the woman’s restroom in Hamada Hall. Sarah Elberfeld has been arrested for her murder. It is incredibly important that all faculty do their best to calm any fears that students may have. As you are all also aware, this is the second death in that building this semester. Remind the students that the first incident was an unfortunate accident, and that the culprit in this case has been apprehended. There is no cause for alarm, please remain calm and do not allow this to affect your midterm season._

_Dr. Reiji Kitani, San Fransokyo Institute of Technology, President_   
_[kitanir@sfit.edu](mailto:kitanir@sfit.edu) _   
_23000 University Place_

Hiro frowned as he scrolled through his email inbox. As he’d expected, Kitani had been right on the scene with calming platitudes about the whole sordid affair, and with a reminder to keep the students calm, with as much delicacy as a blunt object. At least in the email he’d sent out to the entire community, students included, seemed a little more heartfelt than the last one. Hiro snorted. Of course, a professor had been murdered, there was no brushing this one off as student stupidity resulting in a death. No, not this time. Maybe this time there would be something actually done.

* * *

 

During the period that once would have been their biology class, three students found themselves sitting in the library once again, staring down at the table, in silence. It was about an hour before anyone finally spoke.

“Did you see this coming?” Julian finally said, not looking up. Silence reigned again for several minutes before Catherine responded.

“I knew they hated each other, but I never thought… at least on Dr. Tanemura’s side it seemed like it was just some stupid thing she didn’t take seriously. Maybe we should have taken it more seriously.”

“What were we going to do? It was two professors with a stupid grudge. Apart from that pig incident nothing ever came of it, and that wasn’t even Dr. Tanemura. Wasn’t that mostly Danny Ok and Tristan Samuels?” Mike added.

“I thought Keisha Davis was the one who stole the keys to her office,” Julian muttered.

“Oh yeah.”

“But that’s just it! It was stupid, and messy, but I don’t think anyone ever thought that Dr. Elberfeld would fucking _kill_ anyone over it!” Catherine exclaimed. “I know Channary and I tried to talk them out of it but they thought it would be hilarious, and neither of us thought it would end like this.”

The trio fell silent again for another half hour this time, before Mike spoke up again. “You know… maybe it wasn’t Dr. Elberfeld.”

“Yeah? Who else would it be? The Hamada Hall Ghost?” Julian asked sarcastically. Mike shrugged.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, can we not with the ghost shit again?” Catherine exploded. Mike held up his hands in surrender.

“I wasn’t going there, Julian brought it up.”

“Yeah, well, I’m putting it down.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” the red-headed boy said, exasperated. “What if it wasn’t Dr. Elberfeld but someone else? I mean, you’ve seen Dr. Elberfeld, right? She’s tiny! How would she manage to strangle anyone?”

“Dr. Tanemura was smaller than Dr. Elberfeld, and Dr. Elberfeld had a good 150 pounds on her,” Julian pointed out.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean much,” Mike pointed out. “What if she hired a contract killer or something?”

“Just shut up, alright? The woman has been dead for what, ten hours?” Catherine snapped. “Stop making stupid comments. And besides, there were marks on her neck. Dr. Elberfeld probably used a wire or something.”

“Oh…”

The students lapsed into silence again, and this time, nobody spoke up again until Mike muttered something about needing to go to class.

* * *

Hiro’s email beeped again, alerting him to a new message. He clicked on it, expecting another strangely robotic message from Kitani. Instead, he was surprised to see it was from a Detective Frederick Lee, and it took him a few seconds after that to realize that “Detective Frederick Lee” was actually Fred, the only one of their friend group who hadn’t gone into academia. Despite his degree in English, he’d found his true calling in arresting criminals, and had gone through the police academy. His work kept him busy and usually away from his friends, so getting an email like this out of the blue was surprising.

Or, perhaps considering the circumstances, not that surprising.

To: Hiro Hamada ([hamadah@sfit.edu](mailto:hamadah@sfit.edu))   
From: Detective Frederick Lee ([Frederick.lee.4@homicide.sfpd.org](mailto:Frederick.lee.4@homicide.sfpd.org))   
Subject: You’d better get down here…

Hey Hiro, I’m sorry to have to contact you again in circumstances like this, but I think you’d better head downtown to the precinct. We have that crazy professor who killed her coworker here and she keeps ranting about how she didn’t do it and that if we want answers we’d need to talk to you. She’s obviously crazy but the boss thinks we should at least interview you. This is not a summons or subpoena, it’s a friendly request, but I’d advise you to show up here unless you actually do want a subpoena. You’re not under arrest, but you’d better get down here anyway.

~Fred

 

To Be Continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while, but things have been a little crazy. I've been recovering from a fairly seriously back injury, as well as starting a new job at around the same time. I've been in a lot of pain when I'm not at work and haven't been well enough to really get much writing done. I have so many plans for this story that I thought up while I was bedridden but I just wasn't able to get myself to sit up to write anything down. 
> 
> I'm hoping updates will be faster from now on, but I'm still recovering (and trying to work through my recovery) so don't be surprised if it's another month or so before I'm able to get a new chapter posted. I really appreciate everyone sticking with me. I love you all!


End file.
